


the pawn (in the game of gods)

by que_sera_sera



Series: dream smp wlw [3]
Category: Dream Team (Video Blogging RPF), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Abandonment, Cottagecore, F/F, Mythology - Freeform, One Shot, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, genderbent au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:15:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25749499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/que_sera_sera/pseuds/que_sera_sera
Summary: how do you find peace when you are a curse?
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: dream smp wlw [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1767187
Comments: 18
Kudos: 135
Collections: Dream Team Week 2020





	the pawn (in the game of gods)

**Author's Note:**

> day 1 of the dream team week challenge - music and colo(u)r
> 
> before the fic notes:  
> the reason there's inconsistent british/american spelling is because i like to use british spelling for when gb george (our non-american) in this fic speaks, but not when the narrator (3rd person limited gb dream) does things.
> 
> cc's, if you see this, please ask before interacting publicly.

Clay was born into a family blessed by the Muses, specifically Euterpe. Her family had all grown to be renowned musicians, singing and playing instruments. They weaved beautiful songs with merely their minds alone. 

As they had discovered that she was unable to play the music of which the Muses gave the gift of, she was at first relegated to rhythms. Clay truly excelled at rhythms. She could follow the rhythms and patterns as they were written, tapping and hitting expertly. But she could not join in upon a song, she ruined the blessing of the Muses.

As her siblings grew more and more talented, they grew more and more cruel.

"Rhythm girl!" they called, for that was the most affectionate of names of which they could muster, "Rhythm girl!"

She did not mind the names, or what they said after. For the worst of being unblessed was the disappointment of her parents, the shadows over her parents' faces when they saw her, compared to their other children especially. The presence of, perhaps, their curse. Clay was shame, a blemish, a stain. She had heard all of these things before, and she did not particularly care to know if they were true. If a Muse was cursing the family, it wasn't her fault.

She did not mind the snickers most of the time, but sometimes, it got her irate. Why did they get the right to demean her, when all they had was their notes and their blessing? 

Well, the blessing wasn't something to be taken lightly. But that did not matter. What mattered was that eventually, her anger steeped in the pot, and it boiled over. 

And that was the last straw for her family.

Clay did not see a friendly face as she left, she merely saw a few solemn ones that did not truly care for her. They were glad to be rid of the curse. She could not blame them.

* * *

The first thing she did once out of her family was to change her name for the world. She refused to be molded like clay, like her old name. No, she was a dream. Not a dream of the Muses or the Gods, but a dream of her own. Heavenly beings were not involved in her creation, and perhaps the most mortal thing was to dream. 

So that became her new name. Dream.

The second thing she did once out of her family was to fashion a spear for hunting. She had never been particularly good at melee weapons, but in order to survive, she had to hunt. And in order to survive, she could not risk wasting arrows. 

She caught onto it relatively easily, only truly having remorse for the animals at the beginning. Of course, she still felt a twinge in her heart, but she knew it was them or her.

The third thing she did was fashion a mask. It was fashioned from light poplar wood, for it was the most blinding color. She attempted to lighten it by removing some unnecessary layers, but at one point it nearly molded perfectly to her face and she did not want to jeopardize that.

With those three things, she eventually grew to build a near-empire of her own. A sturdy home at the base of a sturdier tree, some money for trading, plenty of food, sometimes pickled and preserved for winters, sometimes hanging out fresh for dinner later that evening.

* * *

Dream woke up on her mattress pad. It was big, perhaps irrationally so, but it was more than enough for Dream. It reminded her of more material comforts. 

It was difficult to make, requiring a ridiculous amount of concentration and effort, but she eventually managed to make it out of the materials she had.

This life was internally comforting, her past life was materially comforting. This was a way to combine them both.

She stared at the meat hanging from her ceiling, drying for preservation. She managed to build a fire that would not burn her home down, surrounded by sturdy sun-dried mud bricks.

It was time to wake up, she supposed. Her mattress was warm, as it always was. But if she slept in, she would die.

After all, a matter as dire as that had to be tended to.

* * *

Dream only robbed when her situation was dire.

Yet she was known as an infamous robber, riches-to-rags cautionary tale of how a curse can blemish families. It's all horse shit. Just because she was born in her family didn't mean that she was a curse. It was a pity for them to have her, but Eileithyia, the goddess of childbirth, permitted it. Perhaps that was the real blessing after all. Being low-profile enough to perhaps escape Euterpe and for Euterpe for not consulting Eileithyia. 

Despite the rumors, a traveler came to Dream's home one day.

The traveler was dressed in a cloak that obscured their eyes and with a long walking stick.

"Who are you?" Dream asked, holding up the hunting spear she had for taking down beasts.

"Who am I?" the traveler answered. The traveler had a feminine voice, with an unfamiliar accent that signaled that this was a traveler from far away.

"Yes," Dream replied. "Answer my question."  
  
"Awfully impolite to not even introduce yourself." The traveler took out an apple, tossed it in between her two hands, and took a bite. 

"I don't need to introduce myself to you." Dream stares at the stranger. Dream should have stepped away, done work, _ignored_ this stranger, but she could not.

"You're right." The traveler smiled. Dream could barely see it because of the cloak. The traveler took another bite of their apple.

The traveler continued, "You don't need to introduce yourself to me. I know who you are. You are Clay, a daughter of the family blessed by Euterpe, who somehow did not receive the blessing. Perhaps it is a curse. You grew up surrounded by people who despised you for who you were. You could never be accepted as the family. They whispered behind your back, and in front of it. You saw the shame on your parents' faces. Eventually you grew sick of it and you were banished because of it."

Dream took a pause. "You are incorrect."

"Tell me how," the traveler replied, throwing the apple core in the forest. aim not quite precise but with a throw far enough that Clay could not hear the apple core land.

"My name is not Clay. My name is Dream." Dream stood taller. "Besides, that level of detail does not pass through rumors."  
  
"I know that it does not," the traveler simply responded. They discarded their cloak, revealing long brown hair and pale skin that glowed under the beams of the sun that made it towards the trees.

"You did not answer my first question," Dream insisted, "Who are you?"

"I am born of a similar circumstance to you," the traveler said suddenly, "That is why I know."

They both pause. The traveler _technically_ answered Dream's question, on a spiritual level but not on a basic level.

"Is there a name of which I can call you by?" Dream restated boredly.

"Yes," the traveler answered. "You can call me Georgia."

* * *

"So, _Georgia_ ," Dream teased, feeling the name out on her tongue, "How is your situation similar to mine?"

"We were also blessed by the muses," Georgia replied, "However, we were, are, patrons of Athena."  
  
Dream widened her eyes. "Oh shit."  
  
Georgia continued, "I do not know what caused it, but I can only see in varying shades of two colours. They didn't know how it happened. Perhaps I was a bastard."  
  
Georgia gave a mirthless laugh. "Perhaps I am a bastard."

"Perhaps I am one too," Dream pondered, "But does it matter now that they have given us up?"

"No, I suppose not," Georgia replied.

Dream exhaled.

"Do you, perhaps, have any skill at collecting food? Or weaving?" Dream asked hopefully.

"I can make myself useful," Georgia answered cryptically. It was a good enough answer for Dream.

* * *

"Here you go," Georgia said, handing over some meat and plants.

"Are these plants edible?" Dream asked.

"By the shape of them, I believe they are," Georgia replied, "I taught myself the shapes of things, since I could never see the colours of them."

"That's smart," Dream responded.

Georgia chuckled. "Yeah?"

"Incredibly," Dream whispered loudly, loud enough for Georgia to hear but not loud enough for the sound of her voice to fill the shelter and echo.

"Thank you." The form of a blush formed loudly on Georgia's pale skin.

"Shall I pickle the berries? It will taste good the meat in the winter," Dream suddenly proposed, and she knew she had ruined the moment.

"Whatever you wish," Georgia responded, colder than before.

* * *

The first winter together was not so difficult as the ones that were spent alone. 

They had more food to go for each of them than they did when Dream was alone.

Food grew inside of Dream's fortified shelter, in crudely hand shaped pots they had made one day from the clay deposits in a nearby river. While it was not plentiful, it certainly helped. They had warm coats and clothes, and they were happy.

There was something Dream felt that she couldn't quite identify. Even though it was winter, she felt extra warm and safe from the outside. It wasn't the coat (they had taken to melting the snow for water and it worked quite nicely for baths). It wasn't the quilts they kept at night while they slept.

Georgia had taken to becoming closer to Dream lately, and it made Dream happy how Georgia wasn't just a sharp tongue and quick of wits, and that she had her soft moments to.

She sometimes wondered what the feeling was.

* * *

There still was only one bed.

Dream and Georgia had been sharing for months, and because it was so difficult to make the first mattress, it really was no problem for them to share it.

Most of the time, they woke up distant from each other, on the same sides of the bed where they had first gone to sleep on.

When Dream woke up one morning, it was different.

The first thing she felt was warmth. It was comfortable, cozy. She wished that she didn't have to leave it. Dream was half-tempted to fall back asleep.

Georgia let out a soft snore in her sleep, but Dream could hear it. Oh no. She felt something in her arms.   
  
Somehow, she and Georgia had gotten entangled around each other in their sleep. Dream tried to let go, but Georgia was strong. 

How did this happen? 

Dream wracked her half-sleepy brain for any answers. She didn't remember getting into this position.

Perhaps it had happened when both of them were asleep, Dream concluded.

* * *

Dream had finally figured out how to make cider from the apples that Georgia found in the forest. 

One starry night, as they were drinking it and sitting by the fire, they swapped stories of their lives and of other people's lives, too.

"Have you ever heard of Callisto and Artemis?" Georgia asked, voice low and tipsy.

Dream frowned. "I don't think so."

"Well, according to the stories, Artemis broke her vow of virginity for Callisto," Georgia answered, her voice accentuating her words at certain points, "And Zeus got angry. Zeus disguised himself as Artemis and presented himself to Callisto. Of course, Callisto couldn't have known that it wasn't Artemis, and she had Zeus's child." 

"Two women can be in a relationship?" Dream questioned.  
  
"That's the conclusion you got from this?" Georgia laughed. "But of course, haven't men been doing this all of the time? Why not women, too?"  
  
"I suppose," Dream responded. 

They drank their cider and laughed throughout the night.

* * *

The next morning they woke up tangled in each other again. And Dream's head was pounding.

That was the first thing that she noticed. She felt head-splitting pain and her mouth was dry. 

Water. She needed water. 

Georgia was strong, but Dream could try harder. She wrenched her left hand free.

"Stay," Georgia murmured under her breath.

"Water," Dream croaked. She set her other hand free and left the bed.

She watched as Georgia rolled over to where Dream had left and snuggled into it.

Dream felt like she was on fire. All the more need for the water.

* * *

As winter turned to spring, the snow melted and flowers started to grow.

"This is a beautiful grove," Georgia commented, bringing a branch down and stroking a flower on the tree.

It was beautiful. The dew-dropped morning gave the grove a scent of freshness and an almost sparkly sheen, and then petals just sprouting on the trees. 

Perhaps it would be prettier in summer, or even in later spring, when the flowers had truly grown in on the trees or fruit would start to sprout, or perhaps in fall, when the petals and leaves would fall to the ground, creating a rug of slowly-decaying flora.

There were a few apple trees there. Though the tree was just barely sprouting apple blossoms, Dream could already smell fresh apples. Perhaps it was scent by association.

Georgia smiled and hummed.

"I wish you could see this," Dream suddenly said.

"I can?" Georgia replied, clearly confused and amused.

Dream swallowed. "Like really see it."  
  
"And I wish you could hear my tunes," Georgia responded.

"We can only wish." Dream stared at Georgia, wistful.

"I know." Georgia stepped closer to Dream.

They had eventually drifted closer and closer together, until their heads were just inches apart.

"If we can only wish," Georgia whispered, "I wish to kiss you."

Dream thought for a bit. "I grant that wish gladly."

* * *

The one bed was more than enough.

The next morning, they woke up close together, cuddling and huddling for something more than warmth.

Dream looked fondly at Georgia, stroking stray hairs back as Georgia slept.

"Good morning," Georgia greeted sleepily.

"Morning," Dream croaked back, her voice tired from disuse.

They woke up like that for many mornings afterwards, together and content.

Perhaps in the curse, they found a blessing.

**Author's Note:**

> hi!! thank you for reading. according to ao3 statistics, 69% of people view my fics and don't kudos them, so it'd be great if you kudos'd my fic. (/j) 
> 
> but seriously, kudos and comments make me VERY happy and give me inspiration to write more. feel free to geek about the fic or even give constructive criticism.
> 
> this fic is VERY VERY VERY mildly inspired by "circe" which was written by madeline miller. very mildly. i just wanted to do depressing-ish happy ending greek mythology shit. (yes i know greek mythology is the most popular mythology but like others would have just taken too long tbh)
> 
> the story of callisto and artemis is half based on greek myth, half me filling in to make it more gay.
> 
> man i've been ridiculously excited about this au  
> if ur a writer in dteam fic ,, you might've seen me gush about it  
> anyways this is for dream team week! i will still (try to) upload my wip chapters every so often.
> 
> i miss writing in the past tense bc i've been doing SO much present tense writing ,, literally for the past year ,,, happy to write in past tense again


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